It Sucks To Be Me, With Skulduggery P!
by ShegoRulz
Summary: A collection of completely crazy drabbles. May have the odd serious chapter...but I doubt it...Will contain Thrashgrace and Clarabelle, Fletchyrie, occasional angst-y Chinduggery and Myra-bashing. Very OOC. Try your best to enjoy xD
1. Everyone's a Little Bit Magically Racist

**I honestly have no idea what this is. I was listening to a song and this random idea burrowed it's way into my stupid head and wouldn't leave. So, sorry in advance.**

**This drabble is based off the amazing musical Avenue Q - if you haven't heard of it, here's the link to the song featured here :D **

** watch?v=RovF1zsDoeM**

**Warning: May contain offensive material. I've double checked it and I don't THINK it's anything terrible, but just a heads up in case I get yelled at :') And a few small KOTW spoilers and Myra - bashing. Enjoy…or try your best…**

**CHAPTER ONE - EVERYONE'S A LITTLE BIT (MAGICALLY) RACIST**

Thrasher leant back in a very nice Sanctuary chair, staring at the ceiling lights in mild fascination. There was a moth fluttering about up there…it looked so pretty…

Suddenly, the moth flew straight into the light and after a small whining sound, fell dead by Thrasher's feet. He squealed in horror. The poor, innocent moth -

"Geraaaaald!"

He snapped out of his trance and glanced up to see Clarabelle skipping towards him joyously.

"Hi, Clarabelle!" He beamed, his melancholy mood long forgotten as he sprang up - well, he tried to spring, then realised he'd probably lose his leg or something - and nodded at her.

"What'cha doing?" She asked interestedly and he shrugged.

"I've brought Dr. Nye all the White Cleaver's body parts and Master Scapegrace told me to get out of his way. I was looking at a moth, but it died."

"Oh dear." Clarabelle said miserably, staring at the insect mournfully, "That's quite a problem."

"I know."

There was a small silence as they contemplated the importance of life, then they beamed at each other. "I'm over it now. Let's do something fun. Can I style your hair?"

"Of course you can, Gerald!" She sat down in the chair and he started to braid her blue hair in delight.

"Hey, Clarabelle, can I ask you something?"

"Sure!"

"Well, you know how your hair is so deliciously blue?"

"Uh-huh."

"And Katy Perry's hair - that's blue too."

"Right."

"I was just wondering…Are you two related?"

"WHAT?" She stood up in shock, folding her arms, "Gerald, I'm surprised at you! I find that…racist!"

He gasped in horror, "Oh, no! I'm sorry! I was just asking!"

"Well, it's a touchy subject." She huffed, defensively flicking her hair back, "Just because we happen to be somewhat alike and have the same style does NOT mean we're related. She's also _American _for one thing!"

He stared at his shoes sheepishly as she continued, "You know, you should be _much _more careful when you're talking about the sensitive subject of race!"

He had started to nod in agreement, but suddenly frowned, "Hey - look who's talking!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what about you and Dr. Nye, huh? Could someone like _me _have your job?"

She giggled, "Well, no, silly! Nobody wants _zombies _here - Oh my!"

He laughed, pointing at her. "You see?

_You're a little bit racist!"_

"_Well you're a little bit too!" _She retorted, blushing slightly.

"_I guess we're both a little bit racist…"_

"_Admitting it is not an easy thing to do!"_

"_But I guess it's true."_

"_Between me and you, I think -"_

"_**Everyone's a little bit racist, sometimes **_

_**Doesn't mean we go around committing**_

_**Hate cri-i-i-mes!**_

_**Look around and you will find **_

_**No one's really colour blind**_

_**Maybe it's a fact we all should fa-a-ace**_

_**Everyone makes judgements…**_

_**Based on race!"**_

"Now, not BIG judgements, like who to hire or who to buy an ice cream from!" Thrasher conceded to his friend.

"Nooo!" She shook her head rapidly, "Because that's really mean!"

"No, just _little _judgements, like thinking that all these Necromancers should learn how to goddamn smile!"

"Right!"

"_**Everyone's a little bit racist, today**_

_**So everyone's a little bit racist - **_

_**Oka-a-ay **_

_**All these jokes may be uncouth**_

_**But you laugh because they're**_

_**Based on truth!**_

_**Don't take them as personal atta-a-acks**_

_**Everyone enjoys them…**_

_**So relax!"**_

"Alright, stop me if you've heard this one!" Thrasher said eagerly, "Ok, so there's a plane going down…"

"Uh - huh…"

"There's only one parachute…"

"Hmm…"

"And there's a rabbi, a priest -"

"And a TEXAN!" Clarabelle squealed, only to be roughly interrupted by Billy-Ray Sanguine, who had just randomly emerged from the Medical Bay with bandages wrapped around his mid-section.

"What the hell ya talkin' about, Blue?" He snarled venomously.

"Aaah…" Clarabelle trailed off, whimpering slightly.

"You were tellin a _Texan _joke!" He yelled, pointing an accusing finger at her.

Thrasher immediately rushed to her defence with a shaky laugh, "Sure, Sanguine, but _lots _of people tell Texan jokes!"

"_I _don't." The assassin retorted, turning around to assumedly glare at him - the sunglasses and lack of eyes made it pretty hard to tell.

"Well, of course _you _don't…" Thrasher said with a disbelieving glance at Clarabelle, "You're from Texas. Duh. But hey, I bet you tell Elemental jokes, right?"

A grin suddenly broke out on Sanguine's face, "Aw, sure I do! Heh, those stupid Elemental people!" He cracked up laughing, then had to stop in case he popped some of his stitches.

"Now don't you think _that's _a little racist?" Thrasher said good-naturedly and Sanguine frowned.

"Well, damn! I guess you're right!"

They all laughed again, until Myra entered with a tray of muffins. "Hey, guys! What're you laughing about?"

"Magical racism!" Clarabelle choked back through tears of laughter.

Myra, having no experience with magic - or anyone in the room, come to that - simply beamed and handed Thrasher a muffin. "Cool!"

Fletcher suddenly appeared in the middle of the room with a _pop. _"Hey, Myra!" He greeted in his thick London accent, "I've just been up and down the apples and pears looking for you!"

"What does _that _mean?" Thrasher exclaimed and Myra turned to him with a frown.

"Uh…stairs…"

Thrasher, Clarabelle and Sanguine erupted with laughter again, clutching at each other.

"Hey!" Myra snapped, "Don't laugh at him! I bet _you _don't have any cool sayings!"

"Oh, come off it, Muffin." Clarabelle giggled, _"Everyone's a little bit racist!"_

Myra gasped, _"I'm not!"_

"Oh, no?"

"Nope!"

"Ha!"

"_Well,_ _how many foreign boyfriends have you lot got?"_

Fletcher gasped, wounded, "What? MYRA!"

Thrasher rushed forward, shaking his head forlornly, _"Myra, baby, where've you been? The term is a 'Hot London Gentleman!" _

"_I know you were not intending to be-e-e-e,_

_But calling me 'foreign boyfriend'…" _Fletcher scowled, _"That's offensive to me!"_

Myra burst into tears, consequently dropping the rest of her muffins as she ran to Fletcher, "I'm sorry! I love you!"

Fletcher sighed heavily, patting her on the back. "Yeah. I know."

"But…" she pulled away with him with teary eyes, "_You're _racist too…"

"Yeah." He repeated with a sigh, "I know:

_I hate all the damn vampires because they're simply emo,_

_One tried to take Valkyrie and the girl just couldn't say no!"_

"Oh, a vampire?" Thrasher shook his head sympathetically, "That's rough!"

"They SUCK!" Fletcher wailed, "I hate them ALL!"

"Me too!" Clarabelle agreed with a fevered nod.

"Me too!" Sanguine had to admit.

"One of them rejected me once." Thrasher whimpered. "So me TOO!"

"_**Everyone's a little bit racist**_

_**It's true!**_

_**But everyone is just about as racist - **_

_**As you-ou-ou!**_

_**If we all could just admit**_

_**That we are racist, a little bit**_

_**And everyone stop being so PC!**_

_**Maybe we could live in…**_

_**Harmony!"**_

Thrasher gave an emotional sniff, "Oh, it's so nice to have friends who appreciate me and my views."

"Mmm, yeah." Sanguine began to shuffle off, presumably already bored, then stopped suddenly, "Oh my god! A little moth!"

Myra fainted.

**Oh God, I don't even know what that was…Reviews and feedback are very much welcomed! I do plan to make this a series of crack-ish drabbles, so I hope you liked…Though I don't really blame you if you don't xD**

**~Shego~**


	2. The Muffin Monster of Australia

**I'm really not sure if this is any better than the first chapter. I'll let you judge xD **

**Big thank you to those who have reviewed! Hope you like it! **

**~Shego~ x **

It was a lovely sunny day in Australia. Myra was busy making her muffins (banana flavour, if anyone's interested), Fletcher was secretly sexting Valkyrie, and Clarabelle was feeding the new kangaroos that she'd just bought from the supermarket.

Enter Skulduggery Pleasant - savvy, stylish and the GODDAMN BEST SKELETON DETECTIVE EVER. He was so awesome that flowers withered and died in his mere presence.

Today he was taking a break from his usual goddamn awesome detecting to interrogate Fletcher for quite obviously trying to get with Valkyrie behind his muffin-making girlfriend's back. And WHY Fletcher would stoop so low, Skulduggery had no idea. For once in his life he was, for want of a better word, confuzzled. Obviously, Valkyrie was drop-dead sexy, but once you tried Myra's chocolate-chip delights, there was really no contest.

He kicked open the door of a nearby house, only to want to rip out his eyes sockets when he saw Scapegrace and Thrasher making out and immediately slammed the door as they began to yell at him.

Oh, dear. The brilliantly clever skeleton detective appeared to be lost. He wandered around for quite some time, the thoughts of Myra's culinary skills the only thing keeping him motivated.

He turned around yet another corner, revolver in hand just to prove to everyone how intimidating he was, when he found himself abruptly coming to a halt. China Sorrows - THE China Sorrows - was standing in the middle of the pavement, admiring herself in a shop window. She was so hot and pretty and GARBLAGH. She was also standing in his way.

"Excuse me." Skulduggery cleared his non-existent throat. "You - you traitorous, sexy beast - are blocking the pavement. Not only did you help kill my family, now you won't let me walk by your drop-dead gorgeous figure."

"Oh, Skulduggery, dear." China sighed miserably. "How I've missed you."

Skulduggery had indeed missed her too, but as always, maintained his cool exterior and shook his head witheringly. "Too bad, lady. Plenty of people want to tap this, you know. The other day, even Kenspeckle came back from the grave to beg me to go out on a date. Do you know what I said, China?"

"No, Skulduggery, I do not."

"Well, I said yes, because he'd bothered to come back from the dead and everything, but the point still stands. I'm desirable. So see ya, lady." He clicked his fingers sassily and spread open his palm to blast her away. It worked and she whacked into a tree, so not only was she humiliated in front of the Australian citizens that passed her by, but she also had sticks in her hair. Skul-dawg was just too cool.

He walked onwards, then was struck with a genius idea - he would phone Fletcher, making out that he was really interested in visiting him to see how his sad little life was going. The poor boy would naturally believe that Skulduggery actually _cared_ and would therefore show him where his house was and then it would be 'bring on the punching' time.

He got out his phone and dialled the number, impatiently tapping his foot until it was answered.

"Hello?"

"FLETCHER! Fletcher, guess who it is?" He gushed, while in the back of his mind thinking about how much he secretly hated him.

"Um…" Flecther hesitated. "I don't know. Sorry."

Skulduggery paused. If he'd had eyes, he would've blinked in confusion. "Fletcher, it's your… number one role model?"

"Uh, no, still not coming to me…"

"It's the best Sanctuary detective."

"DUSK?" Came an excited squeal.

"What? _No. _For one thing, can't you recognize my deliciously velvet voice? And for another, since when was _Dusk _a Sanctuary detective?"

"Oh." Fletcher sounded disappointed. "Oh, right. Yeah. Sorry, can you tell me who you are now?"

"It's Skulduggery!" He yelled into the phone. When the expected "Ooooh!" of delight did not meet his non-existent ears, he kind of wanted to cry. "You know, Skulduggery Pleasant? _Right_?"

"Oh." Fletcher sounded vaguely disturbed. "You. Hello. What is it you want?"

"Well," Skulduggery relied stiffly. "I was _going _to explain how much I've missed you back in Dublin and that I wanted to see you. I suppose I shouldn't have bothered."

"Maybe, yeah. I'm kind of busy."

"Oh, I _know." _Skulduggery chuckled evilly, "You're trying to have rekindle your old relationship with Valkyire, while your poor oblivious girlfriend goes about making her muffins. What do you have to say about THAT, Renn?"

Fletcher gasped, horrified. "How did you know?"

"I have my sources. Now, I have a proposition for you, mister. I promise not to tell anyone, if you show me where your house is. Can you do that?"

"Y-Yes, Skulduggery." He whimpered. "I'd be happy to!"

"Get to it then, you heathen Teleporter."

XxX

Five minutes later, Skulduggery was sitting in Fletcher's cosy living room, his façade activated so that he could drink the offered tea.

"Well," He said cheerfully to the couple, who were sitting awkwardly on the opposite sofa, as far away from him as possible, "this is nice! The three of us…catching up…"

"You've never met me." Myra pointed out doubtfully.

"I've tasted your creations." Skulduggery said, with a slightly creepy grin, then he cleared his throat. "I mean, you know, muffin wise. They're truly delicious, my dear."

"Oh!" Myra beamed, "Thank you! I've got some in the oven now, if you'd like some!"

Skulduggery practically collapsed in pure delight. "What flavour?"

"Banana."

"Count me in."

She bustled out of the living room into the kitchen and Skulduggery sat forward to glare at Fletcher. "How could you, Renn? How?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry! Valkyrie's just…so hot." He whispered, ashamed, staring at his knees.

"Of course she is, but let's put the hotness aside for now. Ravel's hot, but I wouldn't cheat on my muffin-making girlfriend to get to him!"

"You have a girlfriend who makes muffins too?"

"No, you idiot, I was…Never mind. Give me your phone."

"No!" Fletcher clutched it to his chest protectively. "Anyway, I haven't _done _anything with Val! She's just sending me stuff It's completely out of my control!"

"Like SEXTS, you mean?" Skulduggery pointed an accusing finger at him, just as Myra walked back into the room.

There was a loud gasp and the sound of smashing plates - she had dropped the carefully arranged muffins in her shock. Skulduggery screamed.

"Look! Look what you've done, you man-slag!" He shrieked, "You made her drop her muffins! This. Is. SPARTA!"

Fletcher was cowering away from his girlfriend and the enraged skeleton, his hands to his face. "Myra! I'm so sorry! You know you're the only one for me!"

"Valkyrie…_sexts _you?" She hissed, "How DARE YOU!"

"No!" He wailed, "No! She just sends me stuff, like pictures of cats doing stupid things, like skateboarding! I swear!"

They all paused and Skulduggery's fake face frowned. "What? Really?"

"Yes! I was worried it could be classed as cheating, so I couldn't tell you!" Fletcher whimpered, rubbing tears away from his eyes miserably. "They just make me laugh so much…Where did you get sexting from, Skulduggery? WHERE?"

The amazingly badass skeleton detective seemed to shrink back into his seat. "I…" He stared at the ceiling, pretending to be fascinated at the lights. "Well, I guess I just…assumed…because I'm never wrong…And she's so damn hot!"

"You couldn't BE more wrong!" Fletcher yelled defensively. "You know what, Skulduggery? You're entirely to blame for Myra's dropped muffins. ENTIRELY!"

Skulduggery gasped, truly horrified. "No! No, that's not true…"

Myra sniffed, straightening up in a dignified manner. "I think you are. Get out."

"But…the muffins…the muffins…"

"OUT!" They shrieked simultaneously and shoved him back outside.

Skulduggery shuffled away, the place where his heart should've been aching as he glanced back at the house dejectedly. "Soon…" He promised himself, dipping his hat over his eyes. "Soon."

**Poor Skul and the muffins. Yeah, I don't really know what that was either. Trolololo. Please review! **


	3. White Wedding

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews, guys! Haha, glad you seem to like the craziness!**

**Onyx Spirita: Excellent point about Skul eating muffins. Um…let's call it artistic licence of the uneducated, shall we? XD. I should really do more research. Sigh. **

**This chapter features swearing. BAD Scapegrace! **

Clarabelle was getting married and Vaurien Scapegrace needed an outfit. At least, he assumed he did, because he couldn't think of any other reason as to why Thrasher would be dragging him around some fancy shop with outfits so frilly that even Lady Gaga wouldn't have been caught dead in them.

"We need to look nice." Thrasher said before he'd even opened his mouth to complain, "I _have _been asked to be the best man, after all."

Scapegrace scowled. He was always showing off about that. Out of the two of them, what did _Thrasher _have that he didn't? Ok, fine, he was nice. Sickeningly nice. But Scapegrace was the Zombie King. Didn't that count as best man material?

"So _you _get an outfit. I'll just stay in the back of the church." He argued bitterly, then suddenly sidled up to some sort of white suit that Elvis Presley would've adored. "I want this one." He breathed, tugging at it. Love hearts were practically gleaming in his eyes as he imagined how damn awesome he'd look in it.

"No, no, no." Thrasher shook his head and folded his arms as the moment was shattered. "You can't wear white to a wedding."

"What?" Scapegrace wheeled around, his heart silently breaking at the thought of abandoning his dream outfit. "Why?"

"Because it's like upstaging the bride. It's common wedding courtesy."

"That only applies to _women. _I'm getting it."

"No, you can't! _No _white!"

"Shut up." Scapegrace brought the suit down from where it was hanging and looked at it in admiration. "You're just jealous because it would look shit on you."

"What? No I am _not_."

"Then why are you having such a fit over me getting it?"

"BECAUSE YOU CAN'T WEAR WHITE, OK?" The expert of the two shrieked, causing all the snooty ladies to glare at him from over their fashionable spectacles. Thrasher took a deep breath to calm himself down and continued sweetly to a cowering Scapegrace. "Just let me find something, alright? You go and…sit over there."

Scapegrace meekly hung the suit back up and was about to turn away when he muttered under his breath, "I bet the groom will wear white."

Thrasher spoke through gritted teeth as he continued to inspect the outfits in the shop. "No, he won't."

"How do you know? We don't even know who the groom _is. _Don't you think that's weird? It's pretty weird. Clarabelle's never introduced him to us."

"Well," Thrasher turned to him with a small frown. "He's called Fred and he rides a motorbike. I think that's all _anyone _needs to know about a man."

"Do you fancy Fred?"

"What? Don't be stupid. We haven't even met him, remember?"

"Don't call me stupid."

"Sorry, sir." Thrasher winced and held up a blue tie. "This is nice."

"And stop calling me _sir_." Scapegrace continued, "That's even weirder than the fact we haven't met Fred. You can't keep calling me sir when there's only two of us left. It sounds like you're my slave."

Thrasher blushed for some reason and shoved the tie in his hands. "Get that one."

"Whatever. Slave."

The blush deepened. "You always demand respect. You're _always _telling me to call you _sir._"

"Clarabelle's been teaching me how to appreciate people and things in life." Scapegrace smiled a little dreamily, "So now I know that no one is better than anyone else. We're all equal. Except from the Queen, obviously. She's pretty important. And Andrew Lloyd Webber."

"Oh my God." Thrasher whispered, "She's turned you into a hippy."

"Maybe she has, young one, maybe she has. I'm not getting this tie, it's hideous." And with that, the newly appointed peace-lover practically skipped away, leaving his confused minion standing there blinking his big eyes.

XxX

"Would you like a cookie? Have a cookie. I made them. They're not as good as Myra's muffins, granted, but I made them and that counts for something. Have one."

Clarabelle beamed as she accepted Scapegrace's offered cookie. "Why, thank you, Scapey! You're getting a lot better at appreciating the kind little things, aren't you?"

They were sitting in Clarabelle's fluffy little living room, which for some reason had a giant teapot in the middle of it. Consequently, the three of them were squished on one sofa.

"Can I have a cookie?" Thrasher asked hopefully.

"No. These are for Clarabelle."

"But -"

"No."

Clarabelle casually smoothed down her bright pink skirt, which clashed with her vibrant hair. "So. What brings you guys here?"

"Oh, you know. Just visiting." Thrasher beamed. "And we're getting really, really excited about the wedding, by the way. I've started preparing my speech."

Scapegrace glowered over at him and added, "So have I."

Clarabelle nodded and looked very impressed. "Oh, good. This is so cool!" She clapped her hands in delight, not noticing the glare the two zombies gave each other.

"Master," Thrasher said a little icily, "I'm the one who does the speech, not you."

"Says who?"

"Says the common wedding courtesy. Clarabelle and Fred asked me to be best man. I do the speech."

"Fuck the common wedding courtesy!"

Clarabelle and Thrasher gasped. "Scapey! What did I tell you? Swearing is _not _what nice people do!" Clarabelle scolded, still rather shocked by his outburst.

"You're right." Scapegrace said humbly, with a sad shake of his head as he held out his hand to Thrasher. "My apologies."

These mood swings were really beginning to freak out the second-in-command as he hesitantly shook the hand back. "Um…That's ok…"

"I suppose I just feel a little jealous." He said with a small sigh. "I mean, you get a badge and everything. I don't get a badge."

"I don't get a badge."

"Oh." Scapegrace brightened. "Then I'm not jealous of you at all. You start perfecting your speech and I'll just go and buy that suit."

"You're not getting that stupid suit and that's _that." _Thrasher growled, then smiled at a perplexed Clarabelle. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Aw, thank you, Gerald. That'd be lovely." Clarabelle beamed back and delicately stretched out her legs as Thrasher got up.

"You know, Thrasher and I were talking…" Scapegrace began, "About Fred. And how we've never actually met him yet."

"You haven't? Oh. I was sure you had. He rides motorbikes." She explained, as if that solved everything.

"Right. Ok. But what does he look like? Where's he from? Does he have a job?" He pressed on, accepting the mug of tea that Thrasher passed him and rejoined the conversation.

"Master, he rides motorbikes."

"YES, Thrasher, I know that!"

"Well, that's enough information for now, isn't it?" Thrasher rolled his eyes to Clarabelle and muttered something about heterosexuals.

Scapegrace scowled irritably. "Shut up, Thrasher."

"I assumed you two were going out." Clarabelle said randomly, causing Scapegrace to spit out his tea and choke. **(A/N. I know zombies can't actually drink stuff, like Skul can't eat muffins, but…artistic licence…XD)**

"Wha -" He wheezed, "What?"

"I don't know. I guess I just assumed. It's pretty obvious."

Thrasher had gone a dark shade of red. "No. No, we're not going out."

"Oh. That's a shame. Gay zombies are kinda cute. But not as cute as bunnies." She replied casually, taking a calming sip of tea, completely unaware of the trouble she'd just caused.

"Ah…" Thrasher cleared his throat awkwardly, "Fred! We were talking about Fred before…before that…misunderstanding…"

"Yes!" Scapegrace added desperately. "Where is he, anyway? Shouldn't he be here?"

"Oh, no. He doesn't live here."

"What, really?" Thrasher frowned. "But even Scapegrace and I live together and there's obviously nothing romantic going on there. At all."

"Absolutely nothing." Scapegrace whispered, staring in fascination at his shoes. "Two guys who just share an ice cream van. In separate freezers."

"Yes…" Thrasher mumbled, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. "That's right." Then he muttered, "Apart from the day."

"What? Shut up!"

"Well, it's true. The other day you -"

"No, no, no, I did not. Shut up. ANYWAY." He yelled hurriedly to a confused Clarabelle. "Fred doesn't live here?"

"Well, no. We've only been going out for two weeks."

"But…you're marrying him." Thrasher said meekly.

"I am? Oh, yes, that's right. The wedding thing. I don't actually know if Fred knows about that."

Scapegrace resisted the urge to face-palm himself. "Oh, really?"

Clarabelle stared off into the distance with a frown. "I don't even think his name's Fred. I have a feeling he's a vampire, actually. Do you think I should call it off with him?"

Scapegrace looked at Thrasher with unimpressed raised eyebrows. "Freezer?"

"Absolutely."

**I DON'T KNOW. I've just had this idea for AGES :') Garblagh. Please review! **


	4. Cupcakes and Waka Demons

**My only excuse for this madness is that my brain is currently filled with homework and is therefore not functioning properly xD I'm very sorry…**

Valkyrie Cain was in a very bad mood.

One minute she would be laughing hysterically, the next she'd be sitting in a corner weeping or screaming abuse at Tipstaff whenever he asked if she wanted a cup of coffee.

Skulduggery Pleasant was once again confuzzled. Perhaps she was missing the idiot Fletcher after all? Or maybe she was just jealous that she couldn't make muffins? Skulduggery made a mental note to give Myra a call and arrange a baking lesson. Failing that, he could call Scapegrace…apparently he was making cookies now…

He edged closer towards his combat accessory, who at the moment was flicking through a magazine about some celebrity who had lost five stone only to put it all back on again. He made a soft 'hem-hem' noise and her head snapped up.

"What?" She asked icily, glaring up at him. "I'm trying to READ."

"You could've popped up to China's library…If it still existed!" Skulduggery laughed darkly, chuckling in evil glee.

"Yeah, whatever. Those broody, mad-scientist style jokes are getting old." Valkyrie resumed her reading and Skulduggery suppressed the urge to cry.

"Why are you so mean to me today?"

"Get used to it." Came the cutting remark and the awesome Skeleton Detective had no choice but to shuffle away.

"Oooh, bitch be crazy." Ghastly said randomly, appearing in the room for no real reason other than to get in with the gossip. Now that he was an Elder he never got to do anything fun except read cases about Tanith and cry himself to sleep in his loneliness.

"Oh, wise Elder Bespoke." Skulduggery said solemnly (he now fully worshipped the Elders and thought them utterly badass, like himself), "What am I to do with Valkyrie?"

"I suggest you take her to Scapegrace." Ghastly said cheerfully. "I mean, he's a hippy now. He understands deep and meaningful things. Plus, he's gay, so he knows about mood swings."

"That's a little stereotypical." China spoke up from where she'd been lurking at the other end of the room, glancing up from behind a book. "Shame on you."

"The only thing that should be shamed is your library, you smoking hot volcano." Skulduggery replied, before adding triumphantly, "If it was STILL STANDING!"

"Bitch be crazy!" Ghastly yelled as he high-fived his badass friend. "You OWNED that crazy bitch!"

China, obviously far too dignified and classy to make a cutting response, simply stood and strutted elegantly from the room until Ghastly threw a chair at her and she went flying into a wall.

Valkyrie - who would usually have laughed - suddenly burst into tears, slamming the magazine down on the table. "Oh my God! You're so harsh and awful and…and…" She stood, snarling, her tears vanishing. "You make me so angry. I could literally rip you both apart piece by piece."

"Thank you, Valkyrie." China said in adoration.

"Shut up, Sorrows. I could rip you up too. I hate you all. I hate THE WORLD!" And with that, Valkyrie ran away, shadows curling in her hands as she practically blasted Tipstaff away who had returned with cupcakes in another attempt to cheer her up.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. "Well…" Skulduggery said hesitantly, glancing at Ghastly. "Perhaps we should take that trip to Scapegrace after all. I need my partner back!"

"Hell yeah!" Ghastly struck a pose quite similar to Batman in his Elder robes. "And away we go!"

They hurried out of the room, Skulduggery snatching up one of Tipstaff's cupcakes before they sassily stormed the Sanctuary, heading to the Zombie King's lair (which just so happened to be in a stylish block of flats on the outskirts of Roarhaven).

Skulduggery knocked loudly on the door of Scapegrace and Thrasher's apartment whilst Ghastly practised swishing his black robes around in a forbidding manner.

Thrasher answered the door after a few moments and smiled excitedly. "Oooh, hello! Can I help?"

"Actually we were seeking your boyfriend." Skulduggery said impatiently, gesturing for him to step aside.

Thrasher blushed fiercely. "Master Scapegrace isn't my boyfriend."

"Whatever. Is he in?"

"Sure. Come inside, guys. Would you like a cup of tea?" Thrasher beamed and Ghastly nodded importantly.

"Yes. And you will get it immediately, you pathetic little zombie, because I'm an Elder. Understand?"

Thrasher hesitated but nodded anyway. "Sure!" He repeated, his smile wavering slightly. "Please, come in." He gestured inside feebly and they both strutted through into the cosy little flat which was nice and fluffy and had several pictures of West End musicals around the walls which obviously belonged to Scapegrace.

"He's in his room. Because we sleep in separate rooms." Thrasher added hurriedly, "I'll get him. Sit down."

"You promised us tea." Skulduggery reminded him darkly. "And just because I am a skeleton doesn't mean you can back out of it."

"But - You also want Vaurien - I'll get it now…" Thrasher feebly hung his head and shuffled away into the kitchen. "Vaurien!" He yelled, "We have visitors for you!"

The door to the bedroom opened and Scapegrace spun out, wearing a chain of daisies around his neck. "Who is it, dear?"

"Um, it's Skulduggery and Ghastly."

An angry growl from Ghastly caused Thrasher to instantly stammer, "Skulduggery a-a-and Elder Bespoke."

"Oh!" Scapegrace stopped his spinning and cleared his throat when he noticed the two guests. "Hi. What can I do for you?"

"Well, we heard you were a wise peace-lover now." Skulduggery began and Scapegrace nodded.

"I'm slowly learning, but then again, aren't we all? In this life, we go through mistakes which help us learn our true purpose."

"Wow." Thrasher murmured. "He's been coming out with these really deep phrases lately…And they're pretty hot…"

Scapegrace turned to his minion and winked appreciatively. "I know, right? Now go and make them tea, you idiot."

"Right away, Sir."

"Soooo." Scapegrace settled comfortably on the couch and Skulduggery and Ghastly did the same in nice armchairs. "What's the problem today?"

"Actually, it's about Valkyrie." Skulduggery said gravely. "She's been acting very, very strange lately. She's either really angry or she's crying. We are confuzzled."

"Hmm." Scapegrace mused. "It sounds to me like she's been possessed by a Waka Demon. They've been floating about around here for quite a while so I knew it was only a matter of time before they found someone. They mess you all up so you can never feel happy. I bet that's what it is."

Ghastly gasped. "Oh, my! So what can we do?"

"There's one solution." Scapegrace offered. "You throw her in really cold water. That will shock the demon out of her and she'll no longer be possessed."

"Well, that's easy enough!" Skulduggery said cheerfully, "Thanks! Let's go, Ghastly! Valkyrie's possessed by a Waka Demon!"

"That…" Thrasher said slowly, looking doubtful, "Or it's, you know, her time of the month."

Everyone stared at him in disbelief and Scapegrace rolled his eyes.

"No." Skulduggery shook his head pityingly. "She's possessed. Good day, you two."

"Great. Glad I could help. C'mon, Thrasher, let's go have fun." Scapegrace smiled evilly as he leapt from the sofa.

Skulduggery and Ghastly couldn't get out of there fast enough.

XxX

"Why are we standing by a pool? And Ghastly, why the hell are you wearing shorts? That should be made illegal." Valkyrie stated cuttingly, looking immensely annoyed as she surveyed their surroundings.

"We're going swimming!" Skulduggery said eagerly whilst Ghastly made a private phone call to get Valkyrie executed ASAP for insulting an Elder.

"Swimming? I am not going swimming."

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy." Skulduggery waved his hand airily. "You'll love it."

"No I won't. I'm not going. I'm leaving." As Valkyrie made to go, Skulduggery momentarily panicked and shoved her into the pool. There was a humongous splash and Ghastly made a strangled squeal as his shorts got drenched.

Valkyrie emerged from the water, coughing and spluttering with a look of pure fury on her face. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" She shrieked. "I CAN'T SWIM!"

"Don't be ridiculous, of course you can swim!" Skulduggery tutted with an amused chuckle at Ghastly. "Honestly…"

"IT IS MY _GIRL _TIME OF THE _MONTH_." She roared and the whole pool fell silent. Kids stopped splashing. The lifeguard abruptly woke up. Ghastly felt a piece of himself die.

"Oh…" Skulduggery whispered. "Um, well, out you pop, then. So you're _not _possessed by a Waka Demon?"

"A WHAT?"

"We should listen to Thrasher in future." Ghastly hissed in mortification as Valkyrie stormed away. "He's gayer."

"God, Ghastly, you can't determine someone on their gayness." China had spontaneously appeared at the pool with a look of contempt. "Shame on you."

Skulduggery shoved her into the pool ruthlessly. "Shame on _you_, you sexy traitor."

There was a long pause, broken by Ghastly exclaiming. "Bitch be crazy!"

Skulduggery nodded in agreement. "I am indeed."

**A/N: I can't apologise enough for that, but I'll try. SORRY FOR HOW UTTERLY STUPID THAT WAS. But please review anyway xD You know, and I'll make Thrasher give you a hug…**


	5. Fantasies Come True

**This is based off another song from Avenue Q called 'Fantasies Come True'. Seriously, check it out, it's emotional stuff…The song doesn't feature THAT much in this chapter though, in case I just drastically put you off. COME BACK, I'M SORRY. D:**

**Right, so yeah, this chapter is set when the Zombie King and Co. think the Sanctuary's in Wicklow and are driving there. I am once again using my crappy 'artistic licence' excuse about zombies sleeping xD Hope you guys like…Leave a comment and all that jazz and will try to update soon!**

Sometimes living in an ice cream truck had a bright side.

Scapegrace was usually able to sleep and relax in his own personal freezer, the tinkling music of the van soothing him, but tonight there was a problem.

Firstly, Clarabelle was singing to herself very loudly and the usual Pop-eye jangle was non-existent. So, seeing as the crazy yet loveable blue-haired girl couldn't drive, it meant Thrasher had gone to sleep. Which really wasn't helpful when Scapey needed to get to the new Sanctuary as soon as possible.

He sighed in annoyance, lifting up the lid and sitting up to glare at the freezer opposite him. Its own lid was open so Scapegrace was able to see Thrasher's sleeping form, which actually looked kind of innocent and carefree.

Scapegrace was confused about his recent feelings. They were annoying and were constantly eating away at him, because he thoroughly disliked this man, didn't he? Surely he hated him. Surely he did.

"Is…is that a unicorn?" Thrasher suddenly gasped, rolling over onto his side.

Great. And now he was talking in his sleep - again.

"No, no, _I'll _wear the stilettos and - who painted that dog purple? The dog's PURPLE!"

"Thrasher," Scapegrace hissed, "Shut. Up."

Thrasher's head turned slightly and he happily murmured in his sleep, "I love you, Scapey."

Scapegrace squeaked. Had his heart not died years ago, he was pretty sure it would've stopped beating. "What did you say?"

"I love your little laugh…" The minion mumbled, a smile on his face.

"Thrasher? Are you awake?" He asked meekly, pretty sure he was blushing and hating himself for it.

"Take off your shirt…"

Good God. Scapegrace suppressed the urge to squeal as he hesitantly inched back into his freezer.

"Oh, Gerald…Have you been _shy _all this time?_" _He whispered to himself eagerly. "Have we been…hiding from each other?"

"_All those nights…_

_I lay in bed_

_Thoughts of you running through my head..."_

"I know, put my earmuffs on the cookie." Thrasher continued to murmur complete nonsense as Scapegrace beamed.

"_But I never thought_

_That things in my head,_

_Could really happen in my _bed!"

"You'll look like Simon Cowell…"

"_All those years I missed the signs_

_Couldn't read between the lines!_

_Who'd have thought I would see the day_

_Where I'd hear you say what I heard you say - _

_And now…I find…what was always in my mind_

_Was in your mind too!_

_Who knew?_

_Fantasies come true!_

_And now…I see…that what I always dreamed of_

_Was meant to be!_

_You and me - me and you,_

_Fantasies come true!"_

He could see it now - he and Thrasher dancing around in an abandoned moonlit garden, the stars twinkling down at them both. Thrasher would take him in his arms, sweep him off his feet and kiss him…and…

"'_Cause now, my love,_

_I'm getting what I've always been dreaming of_

_So are you, oh baby-_

_Fantasies come true!_

_And now…I swear…that when you want me_

_I'm gonna be right there! To care - to care_

_For you!_

_And make your fantasies…come true!"_

"Fantasies…come…true…"

"Hey, Vaurien! VAURIEN!"

A cheery voice startled him and he sprang up, panting. "Wh -"

"We're here in Wicklow!" Clarabelle was beaming down at him, Thrasher standing next to her with an eager smile. "And you were talking in your sleep!" She added, giggling, "C'mon, get up! We need to see the Doctor!"

"I…" Scapegrace cleared his throat, pointing accusingly at Thrasher. "No, idiot, _you _were talking in _your _sleep!"

Thrasher frowned uncertainly. "Um, no, Master, I was driving. But we made it! We're here!" He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head, "You were dreaming, that's all."

"I…Oh…Right." Scapegrace said weakly, trying to stay blank and emotionless. "Right."

"Sounded like a nice dream, though." Thrasher said cheerfully and Clarabelle nodded happily in agreement.

"Very nice! I had a dream the other day that I was getting married in a lift, but it broke down and the only one who could be the priest was Kermit the Frog -"

"Did he marry you alright?" Thrasher asked anxiously and Scapegrace could've hit them both. He could've hit the _world. _A dream…He'd been dreaming…

"Oh, yes." Clarabelle said seriously. "He was very good about the whole thing…But we need to go! Come on, come on, I need a job and you need a brain and oh goodness, I'm so excited…" She skipped off, dragging Thrasher by the arm.

The minion managed to call over his shoulder. "Come on, Master!"

Scapegrace stared miserably at his clasped hands before quietly muttering. "Coming, Thrasher…"

**A/N. And so, the Thrashgrace saga continues…Will either ever admit their feelings? Please review!**


	6. Dancin' In a Club Part 1

**I'M SO SORRY, I'VE TAKEN FOREVER, PLEASE FORGIVE ME. Even though this chapter is so stupid and doesn't count as an apology, but still. I love you all, readers and reviewers! And here's an important one, because we're introduced to someone special…**

"I'M THE GUY WITH THE BASS AND DRUM GOING AROUND LIKE BOM, BOM, B -"

"If you continue to sing that song," Valkyrie brutally interrupted Fletcher, "I will kill you and make it look like an accident. I'm very good at that."

"I'm sorry, Valkyrie." Fletcher said meekly, his hair drooping.

"God, Val…" Caelan appeared next to them, huskily murmuring. "You're so hot, I could eat you. And I could, you know."

"Ugh. Go back to your hedge in my garden." Valkyrie shuddered in sheer revulsion, before automatically perking up at the sight of the world's BEST GODDAMN DETECTIVE standing outside of the nightclub. However, she popped some gum in her mouth, because she was obviously too cool and hip to be one of _those _fan girls as the trio stalked up to the skeleton.

"Hi, Skulduggery." Fletcher flicked his hair and preened, whilst Caelan glowered broodingly at all the dancers entering the club.

"Yeah." Valkyrie muttered, examining her nails. "Whatever."

"Hello, everyone." Skulduggery struck a pose in his new suit. "I'm just waiting for my superior to arrive, so we can get PARTYING." He yelled the last word rather suddenly, and even Tanith and Billy-Ray Sanguine popped out of the ground in distaste.

"Would your superior be the scarred guy, by any chance?" Sanguine asked with a distinctly unimpressed raised eyebrow, while Tanith gazed at the Texan adoringly and laughed in a deliciously Remnant way.

"I take it you mean _Elder Bespoke, _and yes, it would." Skulduggery sniffed indignantly. "He just gave me a call to say he'd stepped in to his personalised Sanctuary car. So, unless you two want to break his Almighty Elder heart, get out of here."

"What's with all the Elder lovin'? Sounds a l'il magically racist to me, discriminating us other folk." Sanguine said bitterly **(Flashback to chapter one, oh yeaahh) **and the possessed Tanith nodded in agreement, because that was what she did when she was inhabited by a Remnant.

"Indeed it does, honey-bunny. But can you tunnel us into the club? I heard Clarabelle and Thrasher are doing a cabaret dance." She suggested with a smile and Valkyrie couldn't decide whether it was pervy or just Remnant-y. Regardless, they disappeared underground, just as Ghastly's car pulled up.

A little man popped out of the driver's seat, with a ridiculous driver's hat. He was probably called Jeeves, or something equally ridiculous. Jeeves scurried over to open up Ghastly's door and with a swish of Elder robes, he emerged importantly, striding over to the small group.

Skulduggery 'ooh-ed' in delight, before bowing, then forced everyone else to bow too, which they reluctantly did, otherwise they'd never be allowed into the club.

"Come, underlings." Ghastly swished his black robes and proceeded to stalk into the club as the others meekly trailed after him. "Tonight is the night when I hook up."

XxX

"Hey, Thrasher, Thrasher." Scapegrace impatiently whacked at his minion's arm. "Look at that guy over there - the one with all the dark hair and the muscles and the sunglasses and -"

Thrasher automatically craned his head and whistled. "Oh yes, Master, very nice."

"Obviously, if I was…" Scapegrace took a long swig of his alcoholic drink and continued in a slurred whisper, "one of those…y'know…_gays…if_ I was one of them, I'd be over there in a heartbeat and -" He clicked his fingers and droned on, "Then again, I'd be attracted to you, which would be just hilarious."

Thrasher laughed nervously, "Of course. If it's all the same to you, Master, I need to find Clarabelle, because I'm dancing."

Scapegrace nearly fell off his stool in sheer delight. "Wha?"

"Yeah. I'm dancing." He gave another hesitant laugh. "But feel free to go over to that guy."

The Killer Supreme immediately glared. "Why would I do that? I don't know him and I am NOT - I repeat, NOT - a gay man. Nu - uh. I mean, you should've seen what I did to Deadfall's sister." **(Has anyone else ever wondered what happened there?)**

"Yes, Sir," Thrasher decided it would be best to walk away before his companion got too graphic about women - After all, just because his _Master _wasn't gay, didn't mean that Thrasher was, by any means, straight. Nope. Not him. He was about to go up and do some sort of _dance, _for Christ's sake and -

"Gerald!" An excited squeal snapped Thrasher out of it and a blue, curly-haired young woman flung herself into his arms. "Gerald, I'm so glad you're here, because you'll never guess who _else _is here, and it's really important you're here so I can show _him _you're here."

Thrasher blinked.

"Come on, come on," Clarabelle impatiently dragged him over to…Gasp…the amazing hot guy with the muscles and sunglasses. "Gerald -" Clarabelle swung her arms out dramatically. "Meet Fred!"

"Holy mother of Jesus!" Thrasher unfortunately blurted out, then desperately flung his hand out in a gesture of some sort of spastic handshake. "Uh, I mean, Fred! Fred, I've heard loads about you and your motorbike and…Holy shit, you're real. Wait till I tell Scapegrace."

Clarabelle giggled in delight, clinging on to Fred's well-defined arm. Fred casually took off his sunglasses, flicked his dark hair back and nodded. "Hey." His voice was so deep and manly and practically orgasmic. Thrasher felt his knees begin to shake. "So, my girl says you're dancing with her."

Words. He needed words. "Ah." Thrasher cleared his throat, somewhat distracted by how tight Fred's trousers were. "…Yes…"

"Now, I don't want you getting any ideas, man. Just because she's in a corset doesn't mean she's willing to try it with everyone, you get it?"

Clarabelle was in a corset? So she was. A silver one. Kind of like the ones they wore in that film Chicago which Scapegrace had made him watch. "Absolutely, sir. Ding, I didn't realise we were dressing up or -"

"What the hell's 'ding'?" Fred leaned forward and in such a sudden view of his handsome face, Thrasher almost collapsed as he tried to explain himself.

"Oh, I…I call her Ding, because, you know, Clara_belle_, and a bell makes that ding noise and it's kind of stupid, I'm really sorry." He blurted out at once and began to sidle off, only to roughly bump into Valkyrie Cain, who was standing there with her mouth open.

"Who's your friend?" She managed to choke out in sheer awe, while Fletcher and Caelan seethed with jealousy in the sidelines.

"He's my boyfriend!" Clarabelle beamed again and Thrasher nodded rapidly. "He came to see Gerald and I dance!"

"Oh." Valkyrie said airily, while her devious mind began plotting ways to grab the man during Clarabelle's dance and have her wicked way with him. Because, come on, she was Valkyrie Cain.

"Anyway." Fred glanced at his watch. "Babe, you'd better go and get ready with your weird friend."

Thrasher - just glad to be recognised by someone so hot - laughed. It was either laughing or hyperventilating, he couldn't quite tell in his state. He barely noticed when Clarabelle grabbed his hand and dragged him away again, as his delirious eyes were completely focused on Fred and then Valkyrie attempting to seduce him, by fluttering her eyelashes and trying to trip so he'd catch her.

_No way, little lady. _He thought darkly to himself. _That one's mine._ Then, because he was Thrasher, he began to feel insanely guilty about fancying his best friend's man, but Jesus Christ. Why hadn't she told him Fred was hotter than a burning midday sun in California?

**END OF PART 1. You know, in the Tanith novella that's coming out in Marh (OMG, TANITH NOVELLA), when she goes recruiting her villains, part of me really wants her to find Thrasher and Clarabelle dancing in a club. Maybe I should write that as a future fic. Hmm…**

**PLEASE REVIEW, GUYS! X**


	7. Part 2: Relationship Issues in the Club

***whispers seductively* Hii. **

**Oh my God, HOW long has it been? December? I've left you without an update for 4 MONTHS? I've had reasons, I just…can't think of any right now…Sorry D: **

**Rated for sexual themes and complete and utter crack.**

**So, if any of you are still out there, I hope you enjoy! Please leave a review! **

***whispers seductively* Byee. **

Ghastly Bespoke, the best Elder of all time, sat in the corner of the nightclub, wallowing in his misery. Tanith was grinding against some sort of pole, practically right in front of him, and he was overwhelmed with feelings of love and desire. Of course, every so often someone would get in her way and she'd either punch them or kill them, which admittedly was putting a bit of a downer on the whole evening, and probably scarring a lot of innocent people for life, but…Damn…she could move…

Tipstaff wandered over to where he was sitting with a bottle of beer and peered down at him. "Awlright, chum?" He asked, because he was now Cockney for some reason, "Why the long face?"

Ghastly didn't even have the heart to make Tipstaff call him by his proper Elder title OR ELSE, as he was just so sad about everything. Instead he gave another heartfelt sigh and Tipstaff followed his gaze, suddenly understanding. "Ah, yeah! Bloody 'ell, mate, I feel you. I feel you right now."

Ghastly looked at him blankly. Why was he such a badass all of a sudden? The beer probably had something to do with it, he decided. "Tipstaff," he said sombrely, "What am I to do? I love her, and I need her so badly…But she's got a remnant inside of her and is screwing with that Sanguine and I –" He sniffled, wiping his eyes, "Ugh, Tipstaff, _my heart is breaking and my life is over."_

"No, no, _no." _Tipstaff suddenly yelled, whacking him on the shoulder, seemingly unaware that that offence was usually punishable by death by Ghastly's standards, "Now, you listen to me. You listen to ol' Tipstaff and you listen _good."_

"Um. Ok."

"You just gotta make 'er see that you're hot stuff! You gotta take her out, you gotta _sweet_ and _treat_ that bitch! Yeah!"

Ghastly nodded vigorously at the man, who was now doing some sort of weird thrusting thing with his hat. "Yeah! Yeah, I can do that!"

"And then you TAKE 'er!" Tipstaff dropped his voice to a dramatic whisper as he continued, "And you _kiss_ 'er."

Ghastly glanced longingly back at Tanith and tried not to drool with desire as he nodded again.

"And when you're back at 'er place…you're gonna make _love _to 'er!"

"Stop it, you're killing me." Ghastly half-wailed. "That's what I want! That's all I've _ever_ wanted!"

"I know, mate, I _know! _And you'll be getting' hot, and maaad, and you'll RIP THE REMNANT OUT OF 'ER, JUST WITH THE PASSION OF YOUR SEX!" Tipstaff exploded, pumping his fist in the air as most of the people around him sidled off in fear. "And _that," _He breathed out, "is how you're gonna go about it. Goodbye, Elder Bespoke." Tipstaff bowed low and swept away, leaving Ghastly rendered speechless.

The almighty Elder, the supreme ruler of all, was breathing heavily as he clenched his fists. Yes. Now was his chance. Tanith apparently hadn't heard Tipstaff's fabulous advice, so he could catch her unawares.

He was about to walk over when he stumbled into Valkyrie, who was holding onto a handsome man's arm and practically swooning.

"Hey, hey, Ghastly!" She beamed, "Look at who I've got here! Fred, meet Ghastly –"

"Elder Bespoke."

"Whatever. And Ghastly, meet Fred, Clarabelle's soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, once I've taken him outside and convinced him to kiss me!"

Fred shrugged, seemingly completely unbothered by the whole affair. "Cool. Whatevs."

"Damn," Valkyrie breathed, "You're so cold towards me. I love it. It's so sexy. Better than how Caelan and Fletcher acted towards me, _that's _for sure."

Ghastly glanced to the right, where Fletcher and Caelan were curled up on the floor sobbing. "Valkyrie, are…are they alright?"

"Hm?" She looked down at the two boys and sniffed. "Not my problem. Nothing to do with anyone else is ever my problem, because at the end of the day, I'm Valkyrie frickin' Cain and everyone else sucks. Apart from Fred here. Fred's hot."

"Mm." Fred seductively swept a hand through his hair. "I know."

"Now," Valkyrie breathed out, "if you'll excuse us, Ghastly…" She swept away, still gripping tightly onto Fred's arm as if she'd never let go, which she probably wouldn't until she got bored and cruelly dumped him, possibly resulting in death.

Ghastly shrugged and continued onwards, stepping over the inconsolable bodies of Fletcher and Caelan to make his way to Tanith. He practiced a few smiles to himself, then realised how creepy he'd look to anyone passing by, so stopped pretty quickly.

He was so close…Just a little bit nearer…

The whole place suddenly started cheering madly for Clarabelle and Thrasher's dance, and in that moment, Tanith moved from her spot. Ghastly could've cried. He shoved past a few people in an attempt to find her, but he only came across Skulduggery, who was mumbling drunken nonsense to China Sorrows, who looked distinctly unimpressed.

"And I look at you…you sexy, hot traitor…and I just wanna _kill _you!" He half-yelled, then considerably softened, "but I don't really, 'cos you're so hot…you're smoking hot, like a…like a volcano…Damn girl, you're so _fine…"_

China glanced desperately at Ghastly and whispered, "Help."

"Help? HELP? Like my family begged for help before you _killed _them, you deliciously sexy bitch?" Skulduggery yelled, before collapsing in a drunken heap and clutching onto her ankle. "I didn't mean that, baby. Don't ever change…"

Ghastly decided the best thing to do would be to move on again. So far he was encountering all sort of relationship problems tonight, and he had yet to even sort out his own. Oh well, third time…

"Ugh, FINE! FINE, YOU WANT ME TO SAY IT?"

…Lucky.

Vaurien Scapegrace and his idiot friend who had just finished his –admittedly pretty good – dance were arguing right in his path.

"Then I'LL SAY IT!" Scapegrace opened his arms wide as he gestured around. "I – I –"

"Master, this really isn't the best time for another one of your meltdowns!" Thrasher interrupted desperately, "I've just seen Valkyrie Cain go outside with Fred! Have you s_een _Fred? _Have you? _Sir, he is god damn fabulous. And that little demon is going to ruin everything!"

"Hello, boys!" Clarabelle chirped, popping up from nowhere, causing Thrasher to jump guiltily. "What's all this about Fred?"

Thrasher was blushing as red as a zombie could possibly go as he stammered incoherently for a while, before dramatically exclaiming. "Valkyrie Cain is getting off with your boyfriend!"

Clarabelle absent-mindedly took out a packet of Mentos and started dropping them into her drink expectantly, as if waiting for it to blow up despite the fact she was drinking apple juice. "What, really?"

"Yes!" Thrasher said, attempting to look deeply upset as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "And I think it would be best – for everyone, really, especially me – if you broke up with him. I only have your best interests at heart."

"Bitchin'." Clarabelle nodded, "Thanks. I'll look into it."

"No problem at _all." _Thrasher beamed, seemingly unaware of Scapegrace's miserable expression. "Anyway, sorry, Master, what were you saying?"

"Um." Scapegrace blinked. "Right, uh, nothing. Forget it."

"Ok!" Thrasher smiled again, "Well, I'm off outside, to do things which have absolutely nothing to do with Fred. As a matter of fact, I completely forgot he was even outside at all until I just mentioned it. See ya." And with that, he skipped off.

Ghastly had observed the whole conversation with such intensity that he had only just realised that Tanith had walked by him, arms linked with Billy-Ray Sanguine. He'd lost his chance to impress her and rip the remnant out of her with his passion. Through tear-blurred eyes, he turned away in rejection to see Tipstaff sidle over to a now upset-looking Scapegrace.

"Now listen 'ere, mate." He heard him say, "You listen to ol' Tipstaff and you'll get your bitch, mark my words…"

**A/N: Ok, so…so that was weird. Badass Tipstaff, the king of all relationship advice…**

**Oh! Who's read the Maleficent Seven yet?! TALK TO ME ABOUT IT, GUYS. It was awesome! **

**Anyway, I hope you could see through the crapness of this and review. It would mean a lot :') **


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